The Golden Queen

Chapter 13

As night fell, Maggie and Orick sat talking to Grandmother. The old woman let the children build a bonfire with branches from the nearby woods, and Grandmother asked Maggie many questions about her home in Clere.

Maggie told Grandmother of her work in the inn, how she cleaned and scrubbed and cooked all day. She told how her mother died of sickness after giving birth, and of her father and brothers, who had all drowned when their small fishing boat capsized. It seemed to Maggie that Tihrglas was a cold and bitter place, where she had felt cramped, forced into a corner, and as she talked, Maggie realized that she did not want to go back. To live here on Cyannesse, even to live on Fale as a free woman, would be better.

Yet when she finished telling Grandmother about Tihrglas, the old woman smiled and nodded sagely. “We are like you, in that we keep no android servants. This lets us serve one another and take pride in our work. A simple life is best,” she said, as if she were agreeing that, yes, life on Tihrglas must be peaceful.

Maggie wanted to growl and scream in the old woman’s face, but Orick chimed in with, “Och, well said! I’ll drink to that!” and he lifted a goblet of wine in his great paws and poured it down his throat.

The wind was blowing through the trees, and it sounded like the wind that blew through Tihrglas on a summer’s night, warm and comforting with the taste of the sea in it. It was the same kind of wind that had lulled Maggie to sleep as a child, and she felt a pang of longing, not for that damned Tihrglas, but for her childhood, for the blissful ignorance she felt before she’d heard of the dronon, and Maggie realized that if she had never heard of the dronon, even if she’d never left home, she would probably have grown old and been content. “Yes,” Maggie agreed at last, “a simple life is best.”

Veriasse had gone out to look for Gallen and Everynne quite awhile ago, and Maggie was growing worried. Veriasse had said that there were factions who would fight Everynne. Maggie wondered if such factions existed here on Cyannesse, among these seemingly peaceful people.

“I think I’ll go look for Gallen,” Maggie said, and she went uphill, past the singers who sat around a small fire.

By now the stars were out. A red moon was rising and the ocean had slid in under the city. With the wind, Maggie felt pleasantly cool, and she strained her senses as she entered the woods. She found dozens of trails and had no idea which to take, but soon she found one that led to the railing looking out over the ocean. There were benches by the railing, and a path that followed the rail around the city. Maggie imagined that if she just followed the path, she would find Gallen and the others sitting on some bench, talking quietly.

She grabbed the iron rail and used it as a guide, walking through the forest. At the third intersection to another path, she still had not found Gallen and Veriasse, but just as she was ready to pass, she looked down in the cinnabar moonlight, saw Everynne lying in the grass, dead. Her robe was draped over the body, as if to hide it.

Maggie gave a startled cry, rushed to Everynne’s side and pulled off the robe. Everynne was naked. She opened her eyes, looked up.

“What?” Everynne said, sitting up. She looked around in a sleepy daze. “Where’s Gallen?”

Maggie could think of nothing to say. Her heart was hammering and her head spun. “You slept with him, didn’t you?”

Everynne crawled through the grass, picked up her underclothing and put it on, watched Maggie without saying anything. She began to put on her robe.

“You took him, just because you could!” Maggie said.

“On many worlds,” Everynne said, “men and women sleep together whenever they want. It means nothing.”

“Yeah,” Maggie said. “Well, where I come from, it means something, and you knew that!”

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” Everynne said.

Hurt me? Maggie wondered. You’ve crushed me. Maggie found her heart pounding. She didn’t know who to be maddest at, Gallen or Everynne, but she knew they were both to blame. “Maybe you didn’t want to hurt me,” Maggie said. “But you knew that this would hurt me, and you did it anyway. You bought your pleasure by giving me pain. Think about that when you’re the Servant of All.”

Maggie turned and stormed away.

Maggie did not sleep well that night. She returned to the fire, stayed up late listening to the music of this world while waiting for Gallen, but he didn’t return. Veriasse ambled from the woods later. Maggie asked if he had found Gallen. He nodded soberly, saying only, “Gallen and Everynne are talking. They wish to be alone.”

When the music ended and the crowds dispersed, Grandmother conducted Maggie to a large but modestly furnished room, where Maggie bathed in warm water and lay on a soft bed to sleep, with Orick sprawled at her feet.

The longer Gallen and Everynne stayed away together, the more despair tugged at Maggie. She knew she had no claim on Gallen, they weren’t promised to one another, yet she could not help but feel stricken to the core. Two years earlier, when Maggie’s father and brothers had all drowned, a horrible sense of loss had overwhelmed her. But somehow it was less than what she suffered now. To watch family die caused more grief than Maggie had ever believed she would suffer again.

But when Gallen slept with Everynne, Maggie didn’t just grieve from the loss but agonized with the numbing realization that no matter what she did, she could never match up to Everynne. Maggie could love Gallen, serve him, offer everything she was and ever hoped to become, but she wasn’t good enough.

Part of her wanted to be angry at Everynne, to hate the woman for stealing Gallen. But the more she thought about it, the less Maggie found that possible. She had been jealous of Everynne from the first. Everynne was beautiful and kind, and in her own way she bore an air of profound loss and loneliness. It was hard for Maggie to resent someone who was in such pain.

A part of Maggie wanted to be angry with Gallen, but she kept reminding herself that he had never promised her anything. In the end, his loving Everynne seemed inevitable.

In the morning, Maggie stayed in bed late, hoping to get some sleep. Orick left for breakfast quietly, then returned.

“Grandmother and Everynne want to see you,” Orick said. “They have gifts. Everynne and Veriasse are planning to leave. They want to say goodbye.”

Maggie lay on the bed, her eyes gritty from lack of sleep. She could not think straight. “No. I’m not coming.”

“Are you sure?” Orick asked. “They have some nice gifts.” Maggie’s curiosity was piqued, but she didn’t want to let it show. “And there’s something else. I guess I’d better break the news to you myself. Gallen is going with Everynne and Veriasse.”

“He is?” Maggie asked, pulling the covers down so that she could look at Orick. The bear stood on all fours at the head of the bed, his nose only inches from her face so that he could sniff her as he spoke, the way that bears will. She could smell fruit and dirt on his moist breath.

“No, I can’t go,” Maggie said.

“That’s a shame.” Orick turned away. “Gallen will be hurt that you didn’t say good-bye.”

“He doesn’t know what it means to hurt,” Maggie said.

“Hmmm …” Orick grumbled. “I suppose you’re referring to what happened last night? There’s a lot of folks out there giving guilty looks and shuffling their feet. Even a bear can figure out what’s going on.” Maggie didn’t answer. “Och, what are you thinking, girl? Gallen loves you! How can you believe otherwise?”

“He loves Everynne,” Maggie said.

“You humans are so narrow!” Orick replied. “He loves you both. Now, if you were a bear, you wouldn’t get so all bound up in trivial affairs. You would come into heat, go find some handsome young man if one was available-or an ugly old geezer if nothing better could be had-and you would invite him to perform his favorite duty in life. Then you would be done with it. None of this moaning and moping and wondering if someone loves you.”

“And what if someone else wanted your lover?” Maggie asked.

“Why, that’s easy!” Orick said. “You wait until he’s done, then invite him over. Just because a bear is interested in one female today, doesn’t mean he won’t want another tomorrow.”

Maggie found herself thinking of evolution, such a new concept, yet one her Guide had taught her much about. Human mothers and bear mothers had different needs. A female bear didn’t have to spend twenty years raising her cubs the way a human did, and bears ate so much that having a male bear around to compete for food just didn’t make sense.

“Of course,” Orick offered, “if you’re in a hurry to get a lover, you could just go bite the competition on the ass, chase her away.”

“I can’t do that, either. They’re leaving together. Besides, it’s not that easy with people.”

“Sure it is,” Orick said. “If you love Gallen, you’ll fight for what you want. Get mad! Oh, hell, what am I talking to you for? Don’t you realize that Gallen made his choice long ago when he rescued you from Lord Karthenor?”

Maggie watched the bear trudge away, his belly swaying from side to side. “Stupid people,” he grumbled. “Sometimes I don’t know why I bother. Maybe I’ve had things backward. Did my mother tell me to eat sheep and talk to people, or was it eat people and talk to sheep?” He wandered off.

Maggie tossed on the bed, angry at herself. Everynne, Veriasse, and Gallen would be leaving, and there was a strong possibility that they would be killed. Yet Maggie was lying here pouting. She steeled her nerves, threw off her covers.

Outside, the bright morning suns rose in an amber haze. The water had dropped during the night, revealing a vast beach, wet and gleaming. Already, the children were running out over the sand toward the rocky tidal pools to hunt.

Maggie found Gallen and the others just outside her door, sitting on stone benches in the plaza. Grandmother had three airbikes sitting in the open-machines that were all motor and chrome with a set of stabilizing wings both fore and aft. At Grandmother’s feet sat several packages wrapped in silver foil.

“Ah, Maggie, I am so glad you made it,” Grandmother said, clapping her wrinkled hands. “You are just in time for gifts.” The old woman smiled so graciously that Maggie could not help but believe Grandmother took great pleasure in her company. Indeed, they had spoken together for a long time the previous evening, but Maggie had become so distracted afterward that the pleasantness had been driven from her mind.

Grandmother looked through her packages. “First,” she said softly, “I have a gift for Lady Everynne, who is already rich beyond anything I can offer. Still, I was thinking last night that you will be going to fight the dronon, who esteem their Golden Queen higher than any other.” Maggie looked at the old woman in surprise. She had forgotten that, as a Tharrin, Grandmother had been apprised of Semarritte’s plans. “Since you will be our Golden Queen, you must look the part. I have for you some golden clothes and a mantle of gold.” She brought out two packages. Everynne unwrapped them.

The outfit included long gloves and boots, stockings and a tunic, all in brilliant gold. The small mantle was made of golden ringlets and fit over her hair. “You will find that the gloves and clothing are very tough,” the old woman said. “Almost as tough as symbiotic armor. Often, a dronon queen will defend herself if a Lord Escort chooses to do more than mar her. If you are forced to defend yourself, these clothes will help protect you. In addition, we have bonded a selenium matrix into the fists of the gloves and toes of the boots. A solid blow to a dronon body will let you crack its exoskeleton. “

Everynne thanked Grandmother, and the old woman turned to Veriasse. “For our Lord Protector, I doubt that we have anything on our world that could match the weapons you already bear. And so, I give you a special hope. It is a small thing, but perhaps it will carry you through a dark time.” She handed him a small package, and he opened it. The package contained a crystal vial. Veriasse took out the glass stopper.

Immediately a heavenly scent wafted through the air of the open courtyard, and Maggie was filled with such enthusiasm and a boundless sense of strength that she wanted to leap from her seat with a battle cry. Veriasse suddenly seemed to become a younger man-all the cares and worries that so creased his brow melted away. He threw back his head and laughed deep and easy. In that moment, Maggie had no doubt that Veriasse would slay the Lords of the Swarm. He was a powerful man; he could not fail.

Veriasse stoppered the vial, yet Maggie’s sense of boundless fervor was slow to diminish. From Maggie’s work with the aberlains, she knew that the vial must contain an extract of simple proteins-the chemical components of enthusiasm to act upon the hypothalamus, along with some type of airborne delivery system so that “hope” could be absorbed through the sinus membranes as a person breathed.

And yet, even having some idea how the hope was borne, she couldn’t help but admire the craftsmanship inherent in the gift. The artist had combined the hope with some exotic perfume and had probably taken great pains to mix the right proteins so that he could elicit the perfect response.

Grandmother looked over the little group. “For Gallen, the Lady Everynne has asked a special thing. He once asked for eternal life in return for his service. And even though he rescinded his request, he has more than earned his reward. She would like to begin payment.” She lifted a small packet from the ground, handed it to Gallen. “Inside, you will find six tablets containing a full set of nanodoctors. They will help heal your wounds, slow your aging, cure all ills. You have only to swallow the tablets. You will not be immortal, of course. You can be killed. But before you leave here today, we will take a template of your intellect and gather gene specimens. Then, if you should die, we can build you again.”

Maggie knew something of how valuable a gift this would be. Even in Everynne’s world, such things were reserved only for the most deserving. Yet Gallen took the small package, hefted it, then glanced into Maggie’s eyes. He tossed the package to her. “I want you to have this. I wanted it for you all along.”

Maggie sat with the package in her lap, too surprised to reply.

“Ah, a gift of true love,” Grandmother said, and Maggie realized that she was right. Gallen would only give such a treasure to someone he cherished. “I don’t know what to say,” she offered. “Thank you.”

Grandmother patted Maggie’s knee. “I have something for you, but it will not be ready until tomorrow.”

Maggie thanked her, and Grandmother turned to Orick. “And now, for the bear. I have considered many things, but as I talked to you last night, of all the people I have ever met, you seem to be the most self-sufficient. You yourself admit that there is nothing you want or need, although you grumble more than anyone else I know. So, I put the question to you: what one thing would you ask of me?”

Orick stepped forward and licked his lips. “Well, you have a lot of nice things here. The food is good, the music and the company is even better-but I’m just a simple bear from the woods, and the land provides for my needs. I think if there were one thing I’d ask for, it wouldn’t be yours to give.” He looked at Veriasse and Everynne. “I didn’t start this journey because I wanted to, but I’d sort of like to tag along with Everynne and see it through to the end.”

Gallen and Veriasse looked at Everynne, letting her make the decision. Maggie suspected that even Everynne had no idea how much this would mean to the bear. For days now, Orick had been showing her a special kind of devotion, and Maggie suspected that as unseemly as it might appear, the poor bear was as lovesick for the woman as he could get.

“You’ve been a good friend, Orick,” Everynne said. “But if I were to be a true friend in return, I would deny your request. I’ve tried to put a calm face on when speaking of it, but this last portion of our trip will be extremely dangerous.”

“Gallen and I have been in a few tight spots before,” Orick said. “And I’ve always been right there at his side.”

“Please, don’t ask this of me.” Everynne’s eyes misted over. “Orick, I love you. I couldn’t endure the thought that you might get hurt on my account.”

Orick watched her with longing in his brown eyes, turned away. “All right, then,” he said. “If you don’t want me. I’d probably just get in the way.” He turned and began loping back toward Maggie’s room.

“Wait!” Everynne said, and she rushed to him. She got down on her knees and scratched the thick fur under Orick’s ears, then looked into his eyes and said lustily, “If you were a human, or I were a bear, wouldn’t we have a fine time?”

She kissed him on the snout, and Orick’s red tongue flicked out, licked her forehead. Orick gave a sharp little roar of grief and lunged away to Maggie’s room.

Everynne stood watching after him a moment.

Veriasse said, “He’ll be okay. Male bears get used to being sent away by females.” He did not say it to be unkind, merely stated the fact. Young cubs never left their mother voluntarily. Instead, she chased them off. And later, when a male mated, he would usually run with the female until she chased him away.

Everynne nodded wistfully while still watching after Orick.

Grandmother glanced at Everynne. “Do not feel bad. You’ve given him the thing he most wants: your love. It is something I could not give him, and he will treasure it always.”

“Can you give him something more?” Everynne asked. “Will you make him a locket with my image inside? Something to remember me by.”

“Of course,” Grandmother answered.

Everynne and the others prepared to leave. Veriasse began teaching Gallen the basics of riding an airbike. Maggie found it odd that Gallen didn’t know how to ride the thing. She realized that the mantle she wore must have been teaching her in her sleep, for Maggie understood the most intimate workings of the bike, and as she listened to Gallen rev the thrusters, she heard them whine just a bit, suggesting that a turbine wasn’t properly lubricated. She considered pulling out the toolkit stored under the airbike’s seat, just to tinker.

Everynne went to get her pack, and Maggie went to get Gallen’s. Orick, was lying at the foot of the bed. Maggie rummaged through Gallen’s pack until she found Gallen’s defective key to the Maze of Worlds. He’d placed it in his old black leather money purse, drawing the string tight. Maggie removed the key, glanced around the room, looking for something of similar size to put in the key’s place. In one corner was a potted plant with purpling flowers. She removed a flat stone from the plant’s container, placed it in the purse, and returned the purse to the pack.

Orick watched the whole affair, then said, “What are you doing?”

“You want to go with Everynne, and I want to go with Gallen. All we need to follow them is a key.”

“Do you know where they are going?”

“Veriasse was looking over his travel plans last night at the campfire. I watched over his shoulder. My mantle has stored the coordinates of all the gates but the last. We should be able to find them easily.”

“But Veriasse said that using a defective key is risky,” Orick warned, shaking his head.

“Everything we’ve done has been risky,” Maggie shot back. “I’m not going to let that stop me now.” Her mantle could not tell her specifically how the key worked, but obviously an electronic signal unlocked the gate and gave it the coded information on how to make a jump. True, the key was defective, but they hadn’t been hurt in that first jump. Maggie decided that the key time/location send coordinates were probably out of synch with the gate destination decoder. The gate key would simply perform as it had before-sending them back in time as they traveled.

She looked at Orick sharply. “We both know that Gallen and Veriasse think we’ve been as helpful as a pair of mallards on this trip, but even they might need our talents. Are you coming with me, or are you just going to let the woman you love walk out of your life forever?”

“I’m with you,” Orick answered.

“Good,” Maggie said. “Now do me a favor and get out of here. Gallen is going to be coming in for his pack in a minute, and I want some time alone with him.”

“Always being nagged by women,” Orick grumbled as he left the room. “Doesn’t matter if they are human or bears, they’re all the same.”

Maggie stood by the foot of the bed, waited for Gallen to come in. She found her heart pounding, tried to compose something to say, but nothing came to mind. All too soon, he stood in the doorway, a circle of morning light silhouetting him. In his black robes, weapons at hand, the mantle of a Lord Protector on his head, he looked somehow different, strange. No one on Tihrglas had ever worn such clothing, and Gallen seemed to stand taller in his costume, walk in more of a rolling gait. This trip was changing him, leaving an indelible mark, just as it was changing her.

“I’m surprised that you, too, didn’t ask to come with us,” Gallen said after a long moment.

“You wouldn’t have let me,” Maggie said.

“How do you know?”

“You protect people for a living. You’re always watching out for others. You must know that the best way to protect me is to leave me out of harm’s way.”

Gallen smiled weakly. “I’m glad you understand.” He walked over to her, took her by the shoulders and kissed her firmly, passionately. “Everynne told me that you know what happened last night. Can you ever forgive me?”

Maggie was confused, unsure how to answer. She thought-or at least she wanted to believe-that he really did love her. Some things pointed to it-his protectiveness, his tenderness to her now. Yet she couldn’t accept that he would sleep with Everynne one night, then come to her in the morning and try to pretend that nothing had changed. She slapped his face, hard, and it barely moved him, so she punched him in the stomach. “Don’t you ever do that to me again!” she hissed. “Do you understand me? Don’t you ever put me in second place again!”

Gallen nodded, the lines of his face set in hard angles. She couldn’t read what he was thinking. “I know that an explanation will just sound like an excuse, but in all likelihood, by tomorrow night Everynne will either be dead or else so … changed that she will be at least as good as dead to me. She wanted something last night that only I could give. I cannot be sorry for what we did though it pains me terribly to know how it must hurt you. What Everynne and I did last night-that was just saying good-bye.” He considered for a moment, then said, “I will never put you in second place again.”

Maggie studied his face. When Gallen O’Day took an oath, he’d keep it or die trying. She knew that much about him.

“Just promise to come back to me,” she said. Gallen reached out to her, stroked her jaw with one gloved hand. He made no further promises. She fell against his chest and began weeping. Gallen wrapped his arms around her and hugged her until it was time to go.

Orick spent much of the day sleeping, worrying about Everynne. He wanted to leave immediately, but Maggie insisted that they wait until dark to sneak away. Maggie and Orick were both exhausted, so he tried to rest.

In spite of his nervousness, he enjoyed the hospitality of the Cyannesse that day. Once again, the day ended clear and beautiful. He and Maggie ate a sumptuous dinner, and Grandmother announced afterward that an actor wanted them to watch a play he had written in their honor.

So when the campfires had burned low, they watched the actor perform the story of an old man who became lost in a magical wood filled with wise beasts.

The old man worked for a long time, searching for a path home, but by the time the beasts helped him discover that path, he desired only to stay in the forest forever. The old man was tremendously funny, and Orick enjoyed his performance, but the thing that impressed him most was the scenery. The play was set in an open amphitheater, and when a scene changed, an entire forest would grow up as needed, or a moon would rise and shine down on a glen, or a pool of water would begin lapping where only a moment before there was solid ground. The animals, too-the gossiping deer, the overbearing badger-would appear or disappear as needed.

When the play finished, Orick thought longingly of the woods at home, the sweet mountain grasses, the trout-filled streams. Yet when they got back to their room, Maggie asked Orick, “Did you enjoy the play?”

“Och, it was a grand play,” Orick said honestly. “My favorite character was the fox, most amusing.”

“But what of the message of the play? What did you think of it?”

“There was a message?” Orick asked, perplexed.

“Of course there was a message. The actor was asking us to stay. We are the people lost in their magic woods.”

“Oh,” Orick said. “Are you sure? It only made me homesick, thinking of the woods.”

But Maggie seemed sure. She sat on her bed, looking at the box of nanodocs that Gallen had given her, as if wondering whether or not to pack them. Orick asked, “Are you going to eat those?

“Not yet,” she said firmly.

“Why not?”

“Gallen might need them still.”

Orick studied her. She seemed deeply occupied. “If he died, would you take them?”

“No. I don’t think so.” She shoved them into her pack. “You had better get some rest. When the others are asleep, we can go borrow an airbike. There’s got to be one somewhere in town.”

“That would be stealing,” Orick said.

“We’ll bring it back, if there’s any way we can.”

Orick grunted, sniffed the floor, and lay down. He envied Gallen. Not every woman would choose to die if her lover died. No bear would ever do such a thing. The sense of romance behind it overwhelmed him until he almost wanted to laugh with glee. Instead, he lay down and rested.

Half an hour later, Maggie grabbed her pack and whispered, “It’s time to go.” She led him out into the night, under the red moon.

Grandmother sat outside the door, in the moonlight, wearing a deep robe to keep out the night air. “So, you are leaving us so soon?”

“I-” Maggie started. “Please don’t try to stop us.”

Grandmother smiled, her face wrinkling in the dim light. “I was once young and deeply in love,” she said. “And I could never have left the man under these circumstances. Gallen gave me this before he departed.” She handed Maggie the black coin purse. “He said there was a gate key in it, so that you could go home, but I found only a rock. It was not hard to guess who had taken the real key.”

“What are you going to do about it?” Orick asked.

“Veriasse made a map, telling you how to get home, but I am a Tharrin. I cannot stop you from going where you will, so I shall give you your gifts now,” Grandmother answered. She waved toward the shadows of a nearby home. An airbike sat beside the wall, and Grandmother escorted them both across the plaza.

Grandmother hugged Maggie, gave her a piece of bent metal. “I don’t have much in the way of weapons,” she said. “You are going into dangerous territory, and though I abhor violence, this gun might come in handy. Keep it hidden. Also, I have packed some meals for you to eat on the road. They’re in the container under the seat of the airbike.”

Maggie stifled her tears, thanked Grandmother graciously.

The old woman reached into the pocket of her robe and pulled out a large golden disk, perhaps a foot long. “And this is for you, Orick,” she said. She pushed on a latch. The disk opened, and Orick felt as if he were gazing into another world. Everynne stared out at him, and she smiled and said, “Remember, I’ll always love you.” Behind her, the oceans of Cyannesse lapped in early morning amber light. Orick could see Everynne perfectly, smell her. He reached up his paw, touching the image, but some soft gel would not let his paw through.

“Everynne had us record this just before she left,” Grandmother said. “This memento has captured her voice, her image, her scent. It will stay good for many centuries, and I hope that when you look at it, you will not only be reminded of Everynne, but of all of us here on Cyannesse.”

Grandmother closed the disk, and handed it to him. It was slippery in Orick’s paws, but he wanted to hold it for awhile. Grandmother hugged him and Maggie goodbye.

Maggie got on the airbike, asked Orick to straddle it. The airbike was obviously not designed for a bear. His legs were too short to reach the foot pads and his tail was crushed at a very uncomfortable angle. Still, he managed to get on, rest his front paws against Maggie’s shoulders. But he had to have Maggie put the huge locket in her pack.

Maggie pushed some buttons, and the thrusters roared to life behind his feet. He could feel the heat of the engines, and he feared that his fur would catch fire, but Maggie pressed a throttle and the airbike bucked under their combined weight, then lifted with a kick.

Orick looked back one last time at Grandmother, who stood straight in the darkness and waved good-bye. Maggie applied full acceleration. The airbike whizzed into the night, along the streets of Cyannesse until they reached the winding stair that led down to the beach, then she slowed. Still, the bike seemed to slide down, going faster and faster until they hit the sandy beach, bounced once, and then were off.

They drove straight through the night mists, out over a wide sea. The wind whipped in Orick’s face, and lantern fish with their luminous backs lit the water. In some places, it seemed that Maggie and Orick whisked over a road of green light. Tiny silver fish sometimes jumped toward the headlamps of the bike.

After a while, Maggie relaxed, and the machine carried them on until they reached land near dawn. There, Maggie stopped and they ate a short meal, stretched their legs, then rode the airbike up onto a large island, through some rough terrain.

Soon they spotted a gate gleaming gold in the morning. Maggie pulled out the key, thumbed some buttons. Orick was amazed that she could learn how to work such a thing, but ahead of them the gate began glowing white between the arches.

“Where are we going?” Orick asked.

“The planet Bregnel,” Maggie shouted. She slowed the airbike until they hit the light wall and were swallowed in the mists.

The airbike skated into profound darkness, into a world where the very air burned Orick’s lungs, then lay in them like a clot. The ground was thick with ash, and dead trees raised tortured black branches to claw the sky. Buildings towered above them on every side, like squatting giants, and the buildings too were blackened over every wall.

Maggie coughed, hit the throttle, and the airbike whipped through the night, raising a cloud of ashes as it roared down the empty streets. Here and there on the ground, Orick could see blackened skeletons of small gnome-like humans among the ash, many still wearing their mantles, some holding weapons. It looked as if they had been caught and burned in the midst of a battle. There was no clothing left on the skeletons, no flesh on the ebony bones.

There were no lights in any window, no footprints among the ashes. The world was dead, uninhabited, and by the smell of the air, perhaps uninhabitable.

As bad as the air was, a certain heaviness fell upon Orick as well, as if he weighed more here than he had elsewhere. Upon reflection, he realized that he had felt somehow lighter and stronger upon Cyannesse, but had not noticed it then.

As they hurried forward, Orick saw a corpse on the ground, half covered with ash. Its arms were curled close to its ribs, as if the person had died protecting some great treasure. Orick almost called for Maggie to stop, but as the airbike rushed over the corpse, scattering ashes, Orick looked back. In its hands, the corpse held the bones of an infant.

“What happened here?” Orick bawled, the air burning his lungs.

Maggie shouted back, horror in her voice. “Someone released a Terror on this world.”

“Did you know about this?”

“Veriasse told me that the people here were fighting the dronon.”

“You mean the dronon killed them?”

Maggie shrugged.

The headlights on the air bike cut a grim alley through the darkness, and Maggie soared over winding roads through a maze of stone buildings. Up ahead, the lights shone over a pair of footprints in the ash.

Someone had lived through this catastrophe. Maggie veered to follow the trail a short way. After two blocks, they came to a dead end in an alley. There, lying in a heap on the ground was the corpse of a small man, his mouth open and gasping. Above him on the wall, he had scratched a message in the ash: “We have won freedom, not for ourselves, but for those who shall follow after.”

Maggie stared at the message a moment, then hit the bike’s thrusters and rode away. The airbike raced through the city, left the sprawling wastes. The countryside was no better. Fields and crops had been transformed to blackened ash. On the outskirts of town, they saw a red light up the road ahead, and Orick’s heart lifted a little, hoping that someone perhaps had survived this devastation.

Instead they came upon a vast machine, a walking crablike city with eight legs and hundreds of gun emplacements sprouting from its back and head. In one lonely turret on the head, a red light gleamed like a malevolent eye. The machine reminded Orick of some giant tick, bristling with strange devices, and Orick knew instinctively that the dronon had created the thing-for no human would have built such a monstrosity.

“What is that?” Orick shouted to be heard above the roar of the airbike, hoping that Maggie’s mantle would give them some clue.

“A dronon walking fortress. They built them on their home world to carry their young during their migrations.”

“How long must we endure this?” Orick asked. “I can hardly breathe.”

“We’ll get out fast,” Maggie wheezed.

“Maggie, can the Terror still hurt us?”

“If it were going to burn us up,” Maggie said, “we’d already be dead by now.”

After that, they did not speak. Maggie revved the thrusters, giving the bike its full throttle, and they plowed ahead. It took a great effort to breathe. Orick began gasping; his lungs starved for fresh air. He felt insufferably hot, and the world began to spin. He feared that he might fall from the bike, so he clung to Maggie. She reached up and patted his paw, comforting him. Orick closed his eyes, concentrated only on breathing. He tried holding his breath to save his lungs from the burning air, but then he would become dizzy and have to gasp all over again.

It became a slow torture, and he kept wishing that he would faint, fall from the bike and just die in the ashes.

They crossed a long bridge over a lake, and muddy ash floated on the water, creating a thick black crust. The water bubbled. Dark billowing clouds obscured a pale silver moon, and ahead was a black wall of rain. Orick imagined how the air would be cooler and fresher there in the rain, imagined tasting the water on his tongue. But they hit the wall and found that the sky rained only ash.

An hour later, they reached another gate, and Maggie got out the key, pressed some buttons until the gate glowed a soft orange, the color of sunset, then she gunned the thrusters and the airbike plunged through the white fog found between worlds.

At first Orick wondered if it would stay white forever, for the cool fog gave way only to more white mist, but then they were roaring down a snowy mountain trail through the mist, passing between large pillars of black rock.

As soon as Maggie saw that it was safe, she turned off the thrusters. The bike skidded to a halt. Maggie crawled off, fell to the ground gasping and coughing, trying to clear the foul air of Bregnel from her lungs. Orick climbed off, fell to the ground. Bears rarely get sick to the stomach, but Orick found that the brief trip through Bregnel had left him both wrung out and positively ill.

He lay in the snow and vomited, and though it was freezing, he could not muster the strength to move. After twenty minutes, Maggie got up, rubbed herself.

“Are you all right?” Orick asked.

She shook her head. “That air was too foul. Another few minutes, and I would have fallen off the bike. I’m not sure I could have gotten back up.”

Orick understood. He felt grateful to be alive and offered up a silent prayer of thanks. When he finished, he asked, “Where are we?”

“A planet called Wechaus,” Maggie answered. “I didn’t get time to ask Veriasse about it. He said there was some danger here, but the only gate to Dronon is here, somewhere on Wechaus.”

“Are any towns nearby? Someplace we can get a bite to eat, a beer maybe?” Orick looked about in the fog. If a bear could eat rocks, he’d never fear starvation on this world, that much was certain. But other than the rocks, Orick could not make out any sign of trees here, just a few small bushes.

Maggie shook her head. “I’m not sure. We still have some food in the pack. If my guess is right, we should be four or five days ahead of Gallen and the others. I thought we could find a place to stay, then follow them to the Dronon gate.”

Orick looked around. It was getting darker out, and he could not see far. He wondered about things: right now, back in Tihrglas, he and Gallen were most likely lazing about at John Mahoney’s Inn in Clere, drinking a beer and dreaming about tomorrow, totally ignorant of Everynne or the Maze of Worlds. At the same time, he and Gallen were on the planet Fale, trying to rescue Maggie from Lord Karthenor. In a couple of days, he would reach Cyannesse, and he didn’t know when he’d be on Bregnel. Somehow, the idea that he was simultaneously mucking about on at least three different worlds at once left him shaken, and if they kept walking through the Maze of Worlds, things would get even more confusing.

It all seemed sacrilegious, as if they were playing with powers not meant to be comprehended by either men or bears. It reminded Orick of an incident when he was a cub. He and his mother had gone hunting for nuts and had climbed to the top of Barley Mountain. There, under an evergreen, they sat munching at pine nuts and looking out over mountain peaks that seemed to go on forever, fading to blue in the distance. To a small cub, it seemed as if they were viewing infinity, and Orick had asked his mother, “Do you think I’ll ever get to see what’s on the other side of all of those mountains?”

“No,” his mother had answered.

“How come?” Orick asked, thinking that perhaps this would be his life’s work, to travel far roads and learn about the world.

“Because God won’t allow it. No matter how many mountains you cross, he has always made more.”

“How come?”

His mother rolled her eyes at him and sighed. “Because that is how he stays God. He knows what is on the other side of every mountain, but he doesn’t tell all of his secrets to others.”

“How come?” Orick asked.

“Because if everyone knew the answers, everyone would be gods, even people who are evil. So in order to keep evil people from gaining his power, he hides the answers to the most important questions.”

Orick had gazed out over the purpled hills and felt a rushing sensation of awe and thankfulness. God had willed him to be ignorant, and for that Orick felt profoundly grateful.

Yet now he was trying to help Everynne steal the powers of the gods. It seemed only just that he should be punished. Maggie got a blanket from the pack and wrapped it around herself. A cold wind was stirring.

Orick sniffed the air. “Maggie, child,” he said, “I think we’d best get back on that flying scrap pile and see if we can’t find some shelter. Something tells me this place gets colder than a lawyer’s heart at night, and you shouldn’t be out in such weather.”

She nodded wearily, got back on the bike, and Orick climbed on behind her. They slowly drove down the mountainside through the rocks and mist. After a few hundred yards, the fog cleared and they got their first view of Wechaus: a rocky, barren world for as far as the eye could see. Off in the distance several miles, Orick could make out one of those sidhe highways.

Maggie made her way down a steep canyon, then wound through it until they reached the highway. Once they hit the highway, the airbike seemed to know the path, and Maggie quit steering. By then, the cold and the wind were having their way with Maggie. She wrapped the blanket tighter around her and kept her head low so that the bike’s windscreen protected her somewhat, but within minutes she was shaking fiercely from the chill, sobbing in pain. Orick did not know what to do: should he tell her to stop and try to get warm? It was already so cold that if he stopped, he might never get her going again. On the other hand, the poor little thing could hardly travel farther in her current condition.

So it was that they topped a mountain and looked across the line of the highway to a distant valley and saw a small village. It was an outpost of some kind-a collection of stone huts shaped like domes, well lighted with pale green lights. Orick could discern several emerald pools. Smoke was pouring from them, filling the night air.

Maggie redoubled her speed, and in five minutes they closed in, and Orick saw that it was not smoke filling the night at all, but steam. The buildings sat alongside a natural hot spring, and he could see the dark shapes of people splashing in the waters, swimming in the deep green pools. As they neared, Orick let out a whoop of delight, for among the many swimmers, he saw dozens of bears.